I never saw the attention of a congregation more strongly excited, and I really wished, in Christian charity, that something better had rewarded it.
There are a vast number of churches and chapels in the city, in proportion to its extent, and several that are large and well- built; the Unitarian church is the handsomest I have ever seen dedicated to that mode of worship.

But the prettiest among them is a little _bijou_ of a thing belonging to the Catholic college.
The institution is dedicated to St.Mary, but this little chapel looks, though in the midst of a city, as if it should have been sacred to St.John of the wilderness.

There is a sequestered little garden behind it, hardly large enough to plant cabbages in, which yet contains a Mount Calvary, bearing a lofty cross.
The tiny path which leads up to this sacred spot, is not much wider than a sheep-track, and its cedars are but shrubs, but all is in proportion; and notwithstanding its fairy dimensions, there is something of holiness, and quiet beauty about it, that excites the imagination strangely.

The little chapel itself has the same touching and impressive character.

A solitary lamp, whose glare is tempered by delicately painted glass, hangs before the altar.
The light of day enters dimly, yet richly, through crimson curtains, and the silence with which the well-lined doors opened from time to time, admitting a youth of the establishment, who, with noiseless tread, approached the altar, and kneeling, offered a whispered prayer, and retired, had something in it more calculated, perhaps, to generate holy thoughts, than even the swelling anthem heard beneath the resounding dome of St.Peter's.
Baltimore has a handsome museum, superintended by one of the Peale family, well known for their devotion to natural science, and to works of art.